Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 4 degrees, cold and overcast.
A crazy day of housework and getting half drunk!
As I have said many times before, I have been having difficulty getting up early in England, as I usually do in Brazil. I’m not sure if it’s due to the time difference; my body clock is still set to the Brazilian time zone, three hours behind England’s.
Or perhaps because I’m getting older and my body’s adaptability is less than it was when I was younger. Or is it a weather factor, as it is only light after 8:00 AM and only until about 4:00 PM-after that, you can feel the curtains closing and darkness taking over.
So, I’m up at around 8:00. I have tea with sweetener, exercise in the back living room for about half an hour, and then work on my computer. I posted a blog on `The long gringo`, I wrote an entry in my journal and prepared another post for the blog for tomorrow.
Now it is getting on for about midday, and I was thinking of going for a walk and maybe pop into a local pub for a quick drink, but at the same time, I’m trying to prepare myself to stop drinking again from February onwards. I wasn’t drinking before coming to England, but as soon as I arrived, the cold, my mother with her stock of booze, etc., brought me back to drinking, and I don’t want it; it has to stop.
Now that the two silly months are almost over—December and January, when it`s difficult to work or do anything serious, just spending money and eating and drinking too much—and now that January is finishing this week, I and many others, including the world, can move on with their lives, plans, dreams, goals, or simply living.
As I was getting ready to go out, my mother suddenly invented some things for me to do. Since she is old and very set in her ways, I thought it best to do them as quickly as possible so that I could eventually leave and get out. After cleaning and mopping the kitchen floor, organising the clean and dirty laundry, the dishes, the bedrooms, and the living room, it was getting on for 1:30 PM.
I think she does it on purpose, knowing that I’m just about to go out, she invents something for me to do. It’s not the first time; when I was a child, it was very common for her to ask me to do something in the garden or some household chores inside. I always thought that it was to prepare me for adulthood and responsibility. Now that this pattern still exists, there are probably not one, but two or three mental reasons why she does this; however, this is not the time to discuss them.
The house was reasonably tidy and clean, and I wanted to get out for a walk. I also had to go to the local corner shop to buy milk and bread, as we were out, and I couldn’t go out, knowing that my mother didn’t have milk to make tea or coffee. After buying and delivering everything, I was finally free—at least for a couple of hours—to do what I wanted to do.
I had thought about walking to the next village, as there is a large, fun pub there that is not too expensive, and the food is reasonable. However, as it is getting on, I thought it would be better to go to two local pubs within a short walking distance.
I walked up to the ‘Queen’s Head’, a pub about half a mile from where my mother’s house is and on the main road to the next village, Kingswinford. Outside the pub, Luke’s car was parked, the owner of the simpler cafe that I frequent, one of the two in the village, his cafe being further down on the same road as this pub.
I recognised that it was his car because of the rap on the mini depicting the markings of a cow in black and white, and sure enough, when I entered the pub, he was there in the corner with his girlfriend and other friends.
Dan, who goes to both cafes and lives in this pub, was also there. He’s physically disabled with problems walking and talking. I suspect that it was from a stroke, but I’m not sure, and I have never asked.
The pub was packed with Wolves supporters as Wolverhampton Wanderers were playing in a derby against Albion. The lounge was heaving with people, the majority wearing Wolverhampton Wanderers football shirts, and Dan, despite being disabled and physically weaker, was provoking everybody as he was wearing an Albion shirt while also swearing and cussing the Wanderers supporters as Albion was two-nil down.
This, to me, is very similar to Brazil, as when there is a derby or an important match, the more fanatical or serious the supporters are, the more they go to a bar to watch the game with friends.
I was speaking with a pupil last week, Jose, who made an interesting observation: he believes that most countries in the world currently face the same problems. Inflation, unemployment, corruption, welfare state, immigration, cultural difficulties, etc. They all face these challenges, including England and Brazil. The more time I spend in England, the fewer differences I notice and the more similarities I see between the two countries. Football and a football derby is just one example.
After spending about an hour in the pub and watching a bit of the game, I said my goodbyes and, not wanting to overstay my welcome, I left. As I was walking back, I had already decided to have a drink at the ‘Rose and Crown’, which is very near my mother’s house. I’ve been there two or three times since I arrived in England; it’s nothing special as pubs go, but it’s alright.
The pub’s exterior boasts a charming Tudor-style look, with white-painted walls contrasted by dark, black wooden beams. The same style continues inside, though not as prominently.
The pub was bustling, filled with groups of young people watching football on a large screen mounted on the wall in the centre of the lounge. I found a stool at the bar, and while observing the crowd, watching the football, and checking my mobile, I drank for over an hour and a half, with five glasses of red wine. Sometimes a Merlot, other times a Shiraz.
Groups of couples and friends, drinking, vaping and talking a lot of non-important things-verbal diarrhoea, just like in Brazil. I also noticed that it was difficult to see young girls with a nice body; not impossible, but difficult. The majority are a little fat or overweight, and they wear clothes that don’t highlight their bodies, more to hide them in some ways, with bad or tacky taste.
Sweatshirts, hoodies, everything baggy or oversized to hide the body and their faces, something like that of the Barbie film from last year. Long false eyelashes and long false nails, too. And a ton of makeup, trying to give the impression of perfect skin and complexion.
Maybe I’m being a little too harsh or unfair, and I’m not trying to be, but the large, oversized eyelashes are too much for me. And this new fad of oversized lips, like a duck, kills me, too. Again, I’m old and maybe a little set in my ways, out of touch, but how can a young intelligent, well-informed man with a future take seriously a woman with everything fake?
After drinking the fifth glass of wine and feeling half drunk, I called it a night and went home, which was only a five-minute walk away. When I got home, my mother was waiting for me, as we had arranged to buy a Chinese takeaway.
So, I took down what my mother wanted, and I went to the Chinese takeaway restaurant on the corner of a parallel street to my mother’s, placed the order, and waited. The food arrived, and I asked for some chopsticks, but the person behind the counter said she didn’t have any. This surprised me!
How fucked up is that? NO CHOPSTICKS!!!
A Chinese restaurant with no chopsticks. Why is this? Is it because they had sold out, or was it because they never stocked them, because there is no demand for them? If there is no demand, it says a lot about the level and culture of where my mother lives and of the clients, the customers who frequent the Chinese take-away, and again, I have seen the same in impoverished, ignorant neighbourhoods and regions of Rio.
The food was good, but not exceptional, as I remembered it from the last time I was in England, 20 years ago. I spent some time watching a series with my mother and then went to bed.
In bed by midnight.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
